


I Watch Her Sleep

by anemic_cinema



Category: Hellsing
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Friendship/Love, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heinkle reflects on her affection for Yumiko.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Watch Her Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This is a VERY old (9-10 years old) fic I wrote when I was knee-deep in the Hellsing fandom. It's also the only time I've written anything in the first person.

I watch her sleep. I do not know why. We are in a hotel, somewhere in Germany. We move around so much, across the earth and back, it becomes hard to keep track of where we actually are. The only indicator is what language the people speak. Its walls are covered in cracked plaster, and water stains. This could be any room in any country. We don’t really care about earthly comforts, so it’s doesn’t matter that this room is tiny and decrepit. Our beds are small, and close together. I sit up in my bed, unable to sleep, or rather, unwilling. I watch Yumiko sleep. In sleep she is tranquil, so far removed from who she is on the battlefield. I chuckle inwardly thinking about the difference between her and Yumie. She turns on her side so her peaceful face is in front of me. She’s curled up on the cheap hotel bed, with her hands near her pretty, girlish face. It almost looks like she might start sucking her thumb. Her eyelashes fan out across her cheeks, and her bangs are tousled. Her hair is so black it shines blue in the moonlight, giving her head a strange halo. I can hear her breath, soft and steady.

This is why I love her. 

She is like a sister to me. I have no family to go to, she’s all I have besides God. I can tell she admires me for my faith and strength. It would no doubt puzzle her that I admire her too. I know her nature has caused her great pain in the past. I still remember her words on the Beka’a plateau, to let Yumie lie dormant. But I cannot. By order of the Iscariot Organization, we must fight against all that oppose our glorious church. Unfortunately, that also means that her dark side must be used as a weapon. I am glad we have such a woman on our side, but there is still a little part of me that feels guilt. Guilt for having to force Yumiko to become Yumie I suppose. I cannot do anything about it, because it is not my decision. I don’t know what I’d do if it were up to me. Probably make the same decision, for the good of our Church and God. 

She mumbles in Japanese in her sleep. I can’t understand what she says. 

Seeing her so vulnerable makes my heart beat faster. I find it strange that it would have such an effect on me. I am not sentimental. Yet I still the pulse quicken in my temples as I look at her. She has saved me so many times, protected me as I protect her. In an odd sense, we are indeed family. Already, we are sisters under God, but we have become closer than that. What an odd pair we make: A berserker nun, and a female priest. If I were a man, things would be easier. I have always wished, even as a child, to serve God and be one of his chosen ministers on earth. It was quite hard to become a priest, and not a nun. They made an exception for me, because of my skills at battle, and my devotion to the Iscariot Organization.

She turns again so that she lying on her back. Her nightgown is wrinkled and gray from use. I reach out and stroke her forehead. In sleep, she unconsciously leans into the touch, and sighs. I smile and bend down to lay a chaste kiss on her brow, a symbol of platonic love. She sighs again, completely at ease. I’m glad that she doesn’t know that I watch her like this. I’m afraid that she might be puzzled or upset because of it. I can’t explain why I think this. I suppose it’s just my own confusion as to why I do it. Why to I watch over her as she sleeps? Why do I feel such tenderness towards her? I suppose that by watching her sleep, I try to find an answer to these questions.

She turns again, now facing away from me.

I love her so much I would die for her. 

I wonder if she knows that?


End file.
